Control
by Sparky Pants
Summary: I don't think it was about you Nick...' That had been true then, but what about now?
1. Prologue

A/N: Plot bunnies can be so damn irritating! There I was trying to go about my own business, but it just wouldn't leave me alone. I had to give in. Here's the result. Should I continue? Or kill the little bugger now?

Standard disclaimer, don't know 'em, don't own 'em, not making any money.

Control

-

"I don't think it was about you Nick." That much had been true. The rest? Not so much. It wasn't about hierarchy. It wasn't about self-actualisation. It was about control. Pure and simple. It was about control. He had gained control of Jane, had been in control of Jane. In control of her whole world and everything contained inside of it. He had controlled her, and moulded her into what he wanted her to be. A snivelling, crying, pathetic excuse for a human being. He'd made her nothing, because he'd been in control.

But it had been easy. Much too easy. She'd seemed so confident when he'd first met her - installing her cable - arrogant and controlling. So assured and aware of her own importance and superiority. He'd figured it would be a challenge, a mission. He'd figured wrong. Controlling her became boring, her crying repetitive. All after only a week.

Nick however, Nick was different. He was more difficult to control, the same characteristics almost, less arrogance – though it was there, controlling – but not in the overbearing way Jane had been. In theory, it should have been easier. Granted with Nick he'd used a different approach, but he still hadn't expected it to be so hard. Not that that was a bad thing. No. If anything, that was even better. It was a genuine challenge, and there was nothing he liked more. He'd been practising, you could say, on his fellow 'inmates'. Watching them, studying them, knowing them, and he was getting there. Oh so subtly, he was gaining control. And with control came power. Control _was_ power. They'd put him in here for wanting it. The land of the free, controlled by more corrupt powers than it knew what to do with, had imprisoned him for being just like them. They controlled their subordinates and he wanted to control his. If they lost control of one of theirs, or never had it to begin with, then they went after it until they got it. They didn't give up, and neither would he. They made it everything: mental, physical, _personal_, until they had control. And so would he.

In the beginning, Nigel Crane thought to himself, it wasn't about Nick. Now, however, now was an entirely different story.


	2. Chapter One

A/N: Thank you for all the positive feedback so far, I really appreciate it =). Please continue reviewing so I know what you think.

Also, this chapter might seem a little weird compared to the traditional format of chapters, so… just bare with me.

The thing about it, Nick thought, was that it all happened so fast.

_"What the hell? Who the fuck is that?"_

Crime scenes, old and new, were always fast. But what had happened, that had been lightening speed.

_"Shit man, get back."_

It was just so fast, so fast he was confused. He didn't really know what happened, he just knew it did.

_"We've got a code 30, I repeat a code 30. 1092. 1092."_

He looked down at his hands and stared at them numbly. They were red, dripping with red in fact, onto the floor.

_"Get out. Get out now. Get out of our god damn way."_

The floor was a different colour, or at least it used to be. It had been white, a brilliant white in the neon glow of the store. And now it was a dark brown, maroon colour.

_"Calm down, we're leaving. No weapons, nothing."_

He focused on the floor, trying to understand how it had gone from white to maroon and why his hands were red.

_"Look out!" "We've got an officer down, I repeat officer down."_

"Nick!" Catherine was running towards him, he knew. But he didn't know what happened, it— "Nick, are you okay?"

_"Three men down, two civilians.  5 casualties, two delta bravo's. 1015, store 23b on thirteen and west."_

"Miss, he's in a severe state of shock." 

_"Help him!"_

No he wasn't… he just… didn't really know what was going on.

_"In pursuit of suspects."_

"Sir. I need you to stand up. Can you stand up?"

_"Someone help me."_

"Nicky, sweetheart, can you hear us?"

_"Oh god, oh god…"_

"Mam, I'm going to have to ask you to stand back."

_"The ambulance is here."_

It is? Nick thought. Good…

"Just let me help him."

"Mam, you have to let us do our job."

"Can't you see he's scared?"

"He's in shock miss, just let us work."

"Is he injured?"

"Grissom."

"Sir, you can't be here. Both of you please leave before I have to call the police officers over."

"We are the police."

Stop it. Nick thought to himself. He was trying to concentrate and they were putting him off.

"Sir, **please** step back."

"Can you stand up at all sir?"

Stop it.

"Is he okay?"

"Come on Catherine."

Stop it.

"Miss—"

"Grissom!"

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. "Stop it."

"Sir can you hear me?"

"Stop it."

"Nicky! He's awake."

"That's it. Can I get a cop in here?"

"Catherine come on."

"Grissom get off me. Look at him."

"Stop it."

"Let me help him."

"Stop. It."

"He's gone Larry. Long gone. We need him at a hospital."

"Gone, what do you mean he's gone?"

"Catherine."

"Catherine, Grissom, I'm going to have to ask you both to leave the scene."

"Vega, come on, just let us help him."

"You have to let the paramedics work."

Stop it.

"Catherine, let's go."

"Grissom—"

"Both of you. Now."

"We're going. Thank you Vega."

"We're not going Grissom."

"Stop it."

"Why aren't you at the hospital anyway?"

Thank you. He thought at the sudden silence. "Can you turn the light off?"

The two paramedics looked at him, before one of them turned to face the same direction he was facing. "Photosensitivity? Epilepsy?"

"Blow to the head maybe?"

"Why the hospital?" Catherine's voice was suddenly weak, Nick realised. He didn't know why though. He also didn't know why they couldn't turn those lights off.

"Your other CSI."

"Other CSI?"

"The young guy… training."

Training? Greg. Greg had been here. Training. Greg had been here training with him. Greg had been here at the liquor store training with him, Nick, and…

"What happened?"

"Greg?"

"Get Johnny to turn the ambulance lights off for a second, or move the damn thing, the lights are sending this guy further away."

"Okay, pupils are dilated, check for a head wound."

"The suspect was still here when they arrived."

_Code 30_. Officer's need back up. Greg had been here training with Nick and they needed back up.

"Brass called for back up, when they started to get edgy."

"Sir, I'm just going to check to see if you have any external injuries or open wounds around the head area."

"What happened Vega?"

Greg had been training with Nick at the liquor store but they needed back up and so Brass called for it and…

"He was shot… I'm sorry. He's on the way to…"

Vega faded out and everything was silent, realisation and understanding dawning. Nick had taken Greg to a simple crime scene – liquor store robbery – to help with his training. Brass had tagged along. When they arrived, the suspects were still there, or had come back. They saw the badge and the uniform vests and the guns and used their own. Brass called for back up. They fired their guns some more. Greg had been shot.

Nick turned to look at the man next to him slowly.

"Woah, hello sir, can you hear me?" He suddenly began to ask, firing questions at him quickly. "Are you okay? Can you tell me what happened?" He could hear Catherine, Grissom and Vega in the background. "Sir, sir are you alright?"

"I…" He began. "He's… oh… god… I meant to… I didn't mean to… I… Catherine I… I did try… I swear… I…sorry."

"Nick!"

"What's happening?"

"Matthew. Get back here! He's out, he's out! Shock seizure just progressed to level three physical. Matthew?! **Now**!"

"He's having a seizure!"

"**Nick**!"


	3. Chapter Two

A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter, I understand it confused quite a few of you; some of you got it though so YAY! If you're _really_ confused, let me know and I'll explain. This chapter isn't as confusing – I hope. Please r/r and let me know what you think. Thankies =D Also anyone wanna let me in on what canon is? And fanon for that matter. Check out my profile… I'm slow.

"You awake?"

Nick grunted as answer and opened his eyes slightly to watch Sara walk into the hospital room. She took a seat on the bed to face him next to his feet.

She sighed tiredly. "How you doing?"

He grunted again, not bothering to try and form real words or make real movement.

Sara shook her head, a small smile on her lips. "Rough night eh?"

Nick rolled his eyes. He wasn't really in the mood for talking.

"You been to see Greg yet?" Her question was met with silence. "You should, he's been asking after you." She sighed as he still refused to answer. "Nick… don't you think—"

"No." He interrupted before she could get any further.

"You don't even know what I was going to say." She told him frowning.

"So?" He asked, closing his eyes again.

Sara paused a moment, watching him. His face had guilt written all over it, and she sighed, shaking her head. "Brass caught one of the guys from the scene." She said after a second or two.

Nick opened his eyes again. "Yeah?" He asked.

Sara nodded. "He's in a cell at the station now."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Good."

Sara paused before speaking again. "It wasn't your fault Nick. It was his fault. And now he'll pay for it."

Nick averted his eyes from her, refusing to reply.

Sara sighed. "I know you blame yourself Nick. You have guilt written all over you. But it's—"

"He's just a kid Sara." He interrupted again.

Sara frowned. "Hardly Nick, he's twenty si—"

"I don't care how old he is Sara. He's just a kid to me. I was supposed to look out for him and he ended up getting shot."

"In the arm!" She replied immediately, trying to hide her amusement. "He's fine. He's showing off his scar to everyone and bragging about it."

Nick's was unconvinced. "What about his head? Huh? What about his head, and all that blood?" He asked stubbornly, trailing off slightly towards the end.

Sara shook her head, smiling. "So he bleeds? He's a normal human being after all! His head is fine, a little bit of a mark but nothing permanent."

"I thought he was dead." Nick told her quietly, not enjoying their conversation.

Sara laughed, but was interrupted before she could say anything. "Oh well I'm glad you find it so amusing."

She laughed again and shook her head. "Aw Nicky, he's not dead, he's just fine. Go up and see him."

Nick shook his head. "He wasn't moving Sara. There was blood everywhere and…" He trailed off and Sara smiled sadly at him.

"He's fine Nick. He's okay. Go and see him. Prove it to yourself."

Nick sighed and shook his head slightly.

"He doesn't blame you Nick." She paused, watching his reaction. "But he'll be annoyed if you don't go see him. Just go say hi. What's the worst that could happen?"

"He'll spit in my face and tell me he hates me for letting him get shot."

Sara rolled her eyes and gave him a dry look. "Nick… let's try and be realistic here okay?"

Nick grunted, going back to his original form of communication.

"You can't stay in your room all night, you're going to have to see him sooner or later."

Nick didn't reply, staring stubbornly up at the ceiling avoiding her gaze.

She rolled her eyes again and stood up, smirking to herself. "Fine then, have it your way. But just to let you know, Catherine's on her way back here in…" She looked at her watch. "Oh about five minutes… so uh… have fun."

Nick sat up slightly to look at her. "Wait… she is?" He asked.

Sara nodded, pulling the door to his room open. "Yup."

He hesitated, indecision on his face. "I… are you lying?"

"Nope." Sara replied, smiling at his reaction. Catherine had been fussing over Nick and Greg all evening, seeing Nick in such a state at the crime scene having thrown her for a loop. Sara knew for a fact it was driving Nick insane, he hated being fussed over and Catherine had already been down to his room four times that evening.

He paused again, his mind going backwards and forwards over his choices. "Okay, fine. Wait a minute for me to get dressed."

Sara nodded and smiled; glad she had managed to convince him to leave his room. He appeared a moment later, dressed in the jeans and baggy t-shirt Warrick had picked up for him on his way to the hospital. "Ready?" She asked.

"Let's go."

~~~

Martin Wilson stared at the man in front of him, shifting nervously in his seat. His 'neighbour' had always creeped him out. Always. Just thinking about him made Martin shudder, and having to talk to him was like being stuck in some weird freakish nightmare.

He was never quite there, but always full aware of what was going on. He'd look at you, but not really see you. Tell you things without seeming to believe you'd do them, but be fully confident you'd carry them out. 

Martin hated people like that. Hated being freaked out. People who made his skin crawl usually got what was coming to them. Martin was talented like that. He was strong, powerful… violent. That was how he ended up where he was, so he had no problem with hurting people. His neighbour however, as much as he wanted to, Martin couldn't just squash, he couldn't just smack him and be done with it all. No, he couldn't do it. He didn't know why though. And he hated it. He hated it a lot.

"Well?" The voice broke Martin from his thoughts.

Martin stuttered slightly. "Ye… yeah, it's done. It's done."

The man in front of him nodded. "Good." He paused, and Martin knew better than to get up. "Martin?"

"Yes."

"The mind… is a very complex thing. Its control over the body is astounding."

Martin nodded. He didn't care about the mind, or the body. He only cared about getting away, even if it was back to his cell, even if it meant ending his period of 'free-time' for today.

"The heart however, the proverbial heart, is even more astounding. Something that does not truly exist can create emotions so strong that they affect our whole existence." He paused and Martin shifted. "Do you know what some of the most powerful emotions are Martin?"

Martin shook his head.

"Love, hate, fear, grief… and guilt." Nigel Crane studied Martin's reaction, waiting to see if realisation had dawned yet. "Do you understand what's going on yet Martin?"

Martin shook his head again.

"Emotion is strong enough to affect our entire existences. The strongest can affect us to such an extent that we become weak. Our mind's, become weak."

Martin nodded slowly.

"So… if person A is being affected by such a strong emotion, their mind becomes weak." Nigel spoke slowly; knowing speed would only confused the large oafish man before him. "When person A's mind is weak, person B Martin, can easily gain control." He paused as Martin processed what he had just been told.

"Have you ever read Othello Martin? Or seen it performed perhaps?"

Martin nodded slowly, unsurely, hoping he had given the right answer.

"The play, as you know, is set around and named after the tragic hero Othello. It begins after he has just married his wife Desdemona. He is in love with her Martin, so in love. And it makes his mind weak. So weak in fact that Iago - the villain, gains control. Enough control to drive Othello to turn against his best friend Cassio, enough control to drive him to murdering the wife he loved so much. Iago had complete and utter control over Othello, over his actions, his beliefs, his life." He paused again, waiting patiently for a moment. "Do you understand Martin?"

Martin nodded. "Yes."

Nigel smiled. "Good."


End file.
